


Castle Town/Hyrule Castle

by Ort



Series: Ruins [7]
Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sign Language, its cool, twilight has a face journey in a grave yard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 17:15:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18608974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ort/pseuds/Ort
Summary: Nobody says anything; they are walking through a graveyard, weaving through the town, the weight of their weapons and burdens a heavy casket on their shoulders.  The eight of them follow Wild in silent procession towards the main gates of the castle grounds.





	Castle Town/Hyrule Castle

**Author's Note:**

> Based off Linked Universe.

Castle town is destroyed, and that’s putting it lightly.  

 

The remains of buildings lay scattered about the cracked visage of blackened cobblestone and the skeletal remains of houses sit in silence as the group makes its way through what used to be roads and pathways.  

 

They pass through quickly; Wild says nothing, just leads them past the broken forms of guardians, skirting the edges of twisted metal arms and outstretched claws.  Despite last night’s conversation, Wild has still said barely a word to Twilight since they set out that morning. He’d fallen asleep on Twilight’s shoulder and Twilight had taken over the watch, with Time finally relieving him a few hours later.  They’d shared a look as Twilight brought Wild back to his bedroll, but come morning, none of them had quite known what to say. 

 

They pass by the remains of a cathedral, the stained glass of its windows lying in shards around it. 

 

It is quiet here; there are no people, no animals, no…anything.  Twilight shivers and he’s not sure if it’s because of the chill in the wind.  Ahead of him, Time stops to inspect the remains of a home, lifting a broken plate from the rubble with gentle hands.  He holds it gingerly, inspecting it with a neutral expression, before placing it back down. Nobody says anything; they are walking through a graveyard, weaving through the town, the weight of their weapons and burdens a heavy casket on their shoulders.  The eight of them follow Wild in silent procession towards the main gates of the castle grounds. As they pass by more houses, caved in and crowded with ivy and weeds, Twilight wonders if any once homed a young hero. 

 

The defeated husk of a guardian-like creature marks the edge of the town.  Wild glances at it, reaching down to pull something from its cracked hull, before continuing on.  

 

The castle grounds are not much better than the town, with chunks of the castle lying in piles and blocking entrances.  They head straight for the main doors. 

 

It’s changed, Twilight thinks.  It’s not the same castle, and it’s not just because of the destruction that has befallen in.  The others must be thinking the same thing, with the way they stare at the spiraling towers and open windows.  Twilight notes new additions, entirely different sections that have burst forth from the castle’s walls. A new tower.  A different balcony. Even the pathway they walk, underneath the rubble, has been paved anew. 

 

Behind him, Warriors whistles, breaking the silence that has prevailed since they left camp.  Twilight doesn’t miss how Wild jumps at the noise, turning to stare wide-eyed at Warriors. Warriors is too busy staring at a small bridge between two castle sections to notice, his hands on his hips.  He gestures with his thumb, raising an eyebrow.

 

“When did they add this?”

 

Wild glances at the tower. 

 

“Uh… I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t know.”

 

“So it’s always been there?”

 

Wild looks panicked for a second and Twilight winces.  

 

“I, uh,” Wild starts and shrugs, his face becoming a blank mask.  “Don’t remember.”

 

Warriors, to his credit, seems to understand immediately, his mouth clamping shut with a snap.  The rest of them shuffle awkwardly, but Wild shoots Warriors a small smile and some of the tension fades.  Twilight nudges aside of a piece of fallen wall with his foot and looks back at the crossing. Despite its damage, he can see that it blends with the rest of the castle smoothly.  It’s not a new addition; none of the piece are. They’ve been part of the castle for quite a while, more than 100 years for sure. The castle isn’t new in terms of Wild’s time. 

 

But it is in terms of theirs.  

 

The castle is old.  Very old, ancient even.

 

But not as old as Warriors’ time.  Or Four Swords’. Or Time’s. Or Twilight’s.  

 

Wild’s time is ancient.  This castle - this Hyrule - has seen wars go by, has seen Kings rise and fall, has seen the land shift and grow, lakes form and flow, and watched the birth and death (and rebirth) of a new hero.  

 

But it is also new.  

 

It is different.  

 

It has been a long time since Twilight’s feet walked this land.

 

The thought is humbling and terrifying; he’s thought about it before, how far ahead Wild is.  How long it took for the last hero to fall and a new one to rise. As close as they are, they are so separate, so far away from one another.  It makes Twilight think of his own future and his own inevitable end. He has already thought about Time, about the shade he’ll become and how Twilight can do little to change his mentor’s fate, but his own fate and what will happen to him now that his own hero’s quest is over has only just now seemed to rear its head.  Deep down, he hopes that, given the chance, he might be able to help Wild the way Time has helped him. 

 

And that, perhaps, they all will meet again someday.  

 

They stop at the great main doors of the castle and Wild pushes on them lightly, stepping back as they swing open on rusty hinges.  He hesitates as the threshold, staring blankly into its interior. The rest of them wait awkwardly behind him until, finally, Twilight steps up next to his protege to look inside.

 

He finds himself on the edge of a great chasm.  Twilight falters, placing a hand on Wild’s shoulder as he nearly steps over the edge.  Wild glances at him out of the corner of his eye. 

 

The inside of the castle has been utterly decimated, the floor collapsed as if something had fallen through.  Around the caverns hole, the pillars have been cracked and split, as if a great blade has sliced through them.  Twilight leans over slightly, looking down into the abyss, but, without light, he can see nought but an inky blackness.  The others gather in behind him and Wild. Time places a hand on Twilight’s back for support as he too leans over. He grimaces and then points to the remains of a stained glass window, the shattered visage of the Triforce gleaming in the morning sun.  Only the top half of it remains, but Twilight would know it anywhere.

 

“This was the sanctum,” Time says, a question in his voice as he looks as Wild.  Wild nods wordlessly. 

 

“What’s down there?” Wind asks, pointing with his walking stick.  He doesn’t quite need it at this point, potions healing his leg up quick, but he insisted on keeping it after getting the ‘all clear’ from Hyrule that morning.  

 

Wild doesn’t answer right away, staring down into the hole with a blank expression.  Finally he turns on his heel. 

 

“Nothing,” he mutters, walking away to look for another entrance.  “Nothing, now.”

 

They scour the rest of the castle exterior, splitting off from each other to cover ground.  Twilight wanders off in the direction of what looks like a courtyard. The gate surrounding it has collapsed and the inside is filled with remains of a fallen tower.  He looks up to see where it had once been attached to the castle’s main body. Twilight huffs. This certainly isn’t another entrance. 

 

He’s about to go back, maybe find Time or Wild, when something catches his eye from underneath a large chunk of rubble.  It shimmers in what little light falls on it, reflective compared to the wall threatening to crush it.

 

It takes a moment, but Twilight eventually manages to heave the piece of wall up and off whatevers underneath.  It tumbles away, breaking apart as it lands with a thud on the ground, and Twilight is left with an unobscured view of his mystery object.

 

It’s a grave.

 

Twilight kneels, running a hand over top the crooked headstone.  The name on the stone has been cracked through and the dates on the top have been sloughed off, but it’s a grave nonetheless.  It relatively new, in comparison to the rest of the castle. Old and cracked, but the shine of its glossy stone is still there.  Perhaps a recent edition, before Ganon struck.

 

Twilight is sitting in a graveyard.

 

The thought is mildly chilling.  Being in a graveyard isn’t anything special, but the destruction that has befallen this place brings about a whole new meaning of death and fate.  Twilight sighs. If he had the time - if they weren’t on their mission - he’d try and help this place. Uncover the graves, remove the rubble. 

 

He stands, readying himself to leave and sending silent prayer to Hylia for whomever's grave he’s uncovered, when he sees it.  

 

A tree, bowed and broken under a fallen pillar.  

 

Twilight stares, eyes tracing over broken branches.  The tree is, was, ancient. Old. 

 

Sacred.  

 

He’s stumbling- across the graveyard, falling to his knees before the tree.  The grave has long since gone, worn and washed away by the times, but Twilight finds himself searching anyways, hands itching to dig.  There’s something heavy on his chest, a tombstone of his own, as he stares at the sacred tree that once marked the final resting place of his mentor. 

 

Time isn’t here right now; at least, not here, standing next to Twilight as he sits, defeated, on the ground.  The thought of Time lying somewhere beneath him, buried in the earth, is sickening in a way it hasn’t been before and Twilight doesn’t know how to deal with it.  He’d gone back to the grave in his own time, but that was before all this. Before meeting Time face to face, eye to eye, without centuries between them and the guise of a ghost maring his features.    

 

He’d meant to go back.  He’d thought about it, surely.  After all this was over. When they’d gone their separate ways, he’d have returned.  

 

On his own time, he’d have returned.  When he’d gathered his wills and his thoughts, he’d have gone and sat and paid his respects.  When he was ready. 

 

He’s not ready now.  

 

He’s panicking and he doesn’t know why.  It feels like the world is shrinking around him, the castle at his back looming over and bending him like the sacred tree, pushing until he too will snap and fall and die.  The tree before him seems to stretch forth, brittle branches twisting and wrapping around him own rooted limbs. He’s stuck, staring that the ground. 

 

Someone calls his name, he thinks, but his mouth is as dry as the earth beneath him and, when he opens it, he finds himself unable to make even the smallest sound.  He scrunches his eyes closed, bringing his hands up to clutch at his face. The sounds around him are muffled, as if the fog that’s threatening to overtake his mind has already invaded the rest of the world.  Everything is slipping out from underneath him, knocking him off his feet despite the fact that he’s already on his knees, and he can do nothing but sit there and draw in a shudder of a breath. 

 

When he finally opens his eyes, the tree is still there.

 

Someone is calling his name again.  

 

He tries, he really does, but speaking doesn’t seem to be an option right now.  Whoever’s calling for him is just going to have to deal. 

 

There’s silence and then…

 

“...Twi?”

 

Twilight stiffens and whips his head around.  Wild stands a little ways away, his hands wrung nervously in front of him, watching Twilight with wide eyes.  Twilight stares back. He is frozen, unable to talk. 

 

Wild shuffles nervously for a moment, before cautiously making his way over to Twilight’s side.  He kneels, quiet, and brings a hand over to hold one of Twilight’s. Twilight watches and lets out a shaky breath.  

 

“Can you talk?”

 

The question surprises him and he turns to look at Wild, his mouth parted.  Wild purses his lips and nods, before taking Twilight’s other hand as well and placing them together.  Twilight, beneath all of his panic, is confused as Wild shapes his hands.

 

“This means ‘yes’,” Wild says, holding up Twilight’s right hand.  He holds up his left. “And this is ‘no’.” 

 

It takes a moment, but the fog clears ever so slightly and Twilight nods.  Wild smiles softly. He signs something, slow and deliberate, watching Twilight as he does.

 

“Sad?” he asks, signing along with his voice.  Twilight watches and then stares at his own hands.  

 

_ No. _

 

Wild nods.  

 

“Scared?”

 

Twilight hesitates.  He doesn’t know how to answer this.  Thankfully, Wild seems to catch on. He takes Twilight’s hands again.  Twilight lets him, watching as his protege makes words where there weren’t any before.  

 

“I.  Don’t.  Know.” Wild says, shaping each word.  He waits until Twilight nods. 

 

_ I...don’t know. _

 

His hands seem clunky.  His movements are not graceful the way Time’s and Wild’s are.  But it’s a relief, even something as small as this. Wild is a patient teacher, and a careful listener.  

 

Twilight is glad to hear his voice again.  

 

They continue like this, Wild asking ‘yes or no’ questions and Twilight responding the best he can.  Wild doesn’t force him to talk. Doesn’t delve when the question is too hard to answer. Just waits and moves on and leans against Twilight as they sit.  Twilight doesn’t tell him everything; can’t, not when he doesn’t have the words, but Wild seems to understand better than most that some things have to be left unsaid until another day.  

 

Time finds them there, sitting together in front of his gravesite.  He joins them, silent, and doesn’t ask, just notes the way Twilight bows his head and grips Wild’s hands like a lifeline.  He places and arm around Twilight, pulling him close to his side. Wild follows, resting his head on Twilight’s shoulder. 

 

“The others found a way in,” Time says after a while. 

 

“Is it the docks?”  Wild asks. “There might be monsters.”

 

“Perhaps we should go catch up then.”

 

Wild shifts and pulls out his slate, holding it up for Twilight and Time to see.  

 

“There a shrine there.  I can warp us.”

 

Twilight huffs, and something in him clicks.  He finds the strength.

 

“Don’t you dare,” he croaks.  The other two stare at him but, after the moment of stunned silence, Wild lets out a bark of laughter.  It’s the first time Twilight’s heard in a long while. Against him, Time is shaking and, when Twilight turns to look at him, he’s surprised to see his mentor chuckling into his fist.  It’s a sight to behold for sure and, before he can help it, Twilight finds himself joining in. The three of them sit there, dissolving into a fit of laughter, and Twilight feels the weight on his chest begin to lift.  He looks at Wild, and there’s still a sadness there, beneath the laughter, but his protege seems to have let it go for now. Time is a firm presence beside him, solid like stone. 

 

Twilight thinks about telling him, but banishes the thought.  Someday, he will, just like someday he’ll finally sit Wild down and drive it through his skull that his failures are not his fault.  That the fate of the world no longer rests on his shoulders alone. He thinks of Wild laughing and of Time smiling and of the three of them, in this moment.  He thinks he’ll hold on to this for a long time. 

 

There are nine of them now, to carry each other and each other’s burdens.  Nine of them to support and hold up. And the three of them, should all else fall away, will surely never let each other go.    

 

If Twilight tries to take on more than he can handle, for the sake of the two on either side of him, he surely won’t admit it.  

 

He wouldn’t want to ruin such a moment.   Such a memory. 


End file.
